


Better Off Alone

by orphan_account



Series: Bad Things Happen 1.0 [9]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Crying, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Post-Episode: Dealing with INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS, Sympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, you could read the virgil & janus relationship as platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26698054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Virgil stands in front of the dark side’s door, tears streaming down his face and mouth twisted, quiet sobs shaking his shoulders as he raises a fist, stopping short of knocking. He doesn’t know why he came here; he knows he doesn’t deserve to come crawling back here, after everything that’s happened, after everything he’s said and done to them. Surely, he could find some other part of the mindscape to go, some hole to crawl into and hide in for the rest of his days, considering how much he doubts Thomas ever listening to him again. Hell, maybe everyone would prefer that.So why did he come here?
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Everyone
Series: Bad Things Happen 1.0 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928308
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Better Off Alone

Virgil stands in front of the dark side’s door, tears streaming down his face and mouth twisted, quiet sobs shaking his shoulders as he raises a fist, stopping short of knocking. He doesn’t know why he came here; he knows he doesn’t deserve to come crawling back here, after everything that’s happened, after everything he’s said and done to them. Surely, he could find some other part of the mindscape to go, some hole to crawl into and hide in for the rest of his days, considering how much he doubts Thomas ever listening to him again. Hell, maybe everyone would prefer that.

So why did he come _here_?

He supposes it doesn’t matter, anyway, at the end of the day. The light sides had turned him away after finding out about his past— _how can we trust you when everything we know about you is based on a lie?_ had been Roman’s exact words—leaving him to wander, lost in thought. And that’s a dangerous thing for him, thinking. He thinks too much these days.

Virgil’s hand shakes, knuckles inches away from the wood. The tears fall faster, harder, the ache in his chest almost overwhelming.

He could knock. He knows he could, in theory—tell them his sob story and hope they’ll let him back in. In fact, he _knows_ they’d let him back in, because it’s _them_ ; they had always loved with everything they had. They had been close once. A family.

Until Virgil had gone and thrown it all away for a pipe dream, that is.

 _“They won’t love you,” Janus’ words had been harsh that day, eyes cold, calculating, though Janus could never hide his pain from Virgil. Virgil’s always been good at picking up on signals like that. “Not really. They’ll make an idolized version of you in their heads and love_ him _. They won’t care about the real you, not like we do.”_

_“Oh, what,” he remembers snapping, “and you do?”_

_“Of course. Always will—and when they throw you aside, you’ll realize that, and you’ll come back here and you’ll say you’re sorry, because you know I’m right.”_

_“You’re not right. You’re lying—like you always do! And I’m tired of living a lie!”_

_Janus hadn’t responded to that. Virgil hadn’t waited for a response, either, having slammed the door on his way out._

He’d been such an idiot, back then.

Part of him wonders if the real reason Janus had started revealing himself in the first place had been because of that fight—to try and prove himself. To prove that he cared. It makes sense when he thought about it: Janus never really cared about what the light sides thought of him. Thomas, maybe, but only because of their built-in functions.

No, Janus never has cared about acceptance. He just cares about _him_. 

Virgil falters a second longer, hand still held out in front of him. He allows it to fall back to his side, hands balled up into fists as he shoves them into his hoodie pockets.

He turns and walks away.

 _They deserve better_ , he tells himself, the regret stirring in his chest flaring up into bitter anger. _Someone better than me._

_And I’m better off alone, anyway._


End file.
